


The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

by MCRmyGeneral



Series: Phone Calls and Promises [4]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, And So Does Mickey, But also the best father ever, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Party, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, F/F, F/M, Family Feels, Ian Gets His Happy Ending, M/M, Married Couple, Mickey is Daddy, Mickey pops another question, Minor Drug Use, Multi, One Big Happy Family, Protective Siblings, Surrogacy, This was supposed to be posted before Christmas, What else is new?, You see what I did there?, i'm late, my bad - Freeform, supportive parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 12:12:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13166667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCRmyGeneral/pseuds/MCRmyGeneral
Summary: Set a few years after No More Next Times, but totallycan be read as a standalone!In few years since Mickey was released from prison, his and Ian's life has settled into the most amazing and most stable it's ever been. Who would've thought that married life suited the bad boy so well? But when Christmas Eve and the annual Gallagher party rolls around, Mickey finds something chewing on his mind, something he wants desperately, but never imagined he'd ask for. Ian said yes the first time around. Would Mickey be so lucky the second?





	The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry that this is late! I fully intended this to be uploaded a few days before Christmas as kind of a surprise present, but I just got so lost in everything. My apologies, and to finish off (for real this time!) this series, I give you one big happy, fluffy Gallagher/Milkovich/Ball Christmas party!

“Mick!” Ian called from the bedroom where he was dousing himself with cologne and fixing his hair one last time.

“The fuck do you want?” Mickey grumbled, poking his head into their room.

“Are you ready?” Ian asked, spinning away from the mirror to face his husband.

“I been waitin’ on your self-absorbed ass for twenty minutes!” Mickey joked, walking into the room. “How many times can you redo your hair?”

Ian narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. There wasn’t really anything he could say. Mickey was right and they both knew it.

Mickey smirked and walked toward Ian, winding his arms around the taller boy’s neck and inhaling deeply. “Mmm,” He hummed with a flirty smile, cocking an eyebrow, “You smell _good_ ,” He purred, leaning in for a heavy kiss.

Ian clutched at Mickey’s clothes, but only to hold him against himself even closer. The two kissed for a long moment, happy sighs quickly turning to deep moans. Finally Mickey stepped away, leaving Ian chasing him with his lips.

Ian frowned, and Mickey laughed.

“Come on, we’re gonna be the last ones there,” He pointed out, lightly slapping Ian’s chest before heading out the door.

Ian stared at his ass as he walked away, smiling softly.

********

A chorus of ‘Ian!’ and ‘Mickey!’ rang as the boys walked in the front door, arms filled with wrapped presents and gift bags.

Ian laughed as four children, all different heights, skin and hair colors, raced up to them, and a child wrapped themselves around each of the four legs in the front hall.

Mickey couldn’t help but smile, a warmth blooming in his chest. He dipped a hand into chocolate curls for just a second. “Guys, let us come inside first! You’ll all get your hugs; we promise!”

“You’d think they haven’t seen you in years,” Fiona joked, rolling her eyes and holding her hands out to grab some boxes.

Ian handed them over and leaned down, scooping two children; one blonde boy and a girl with thick red ringlets into his arms, letting them wrap their arms almost painfully around his neck. Mickey handed Kev his packages and did the same, kissing Gemma and Amy’s cheeks before setting them back down. He held his hands out and Yevgeny lept from Ian’s arms to his.

Mickey’s face got warm as he cradled the boy against his chest, and he could tell Ian was watching him. He didn’t care; he wasn’t afraid anymore. He loved his husband, his son, his family with an intensity that was almost unmatched. Ian had known all along that when Mickey finally let his walls down, he’d be ferociously loyal, someone you’d be proud to call family.

“Hey, guys,” Kev greeted the boys much less enthusiastically than the kids, giving them short, one-armed hugs before moving so V could do the same.

“Handsome,” V smirked as she hugged Ian, never letting him grow out of his teenage nickname. Ian hugged her gently, then dropped to his knees to cradle her stomach, pressing a soft kiss to the bump.

“He still kicking really bad?” He looked up at V, who smiled and nodded.

“You’d think he knows karate,” She joked, though her voice was exhausted. Ian stood and moved on to hug Liam and kiss Svetlana, Fiona and Debbie, then he returned to Mickey’s side.

Mickey hugged V the same as Ian, rubbing her stomach quickly, then slung an arm around Fi’s shoulders, looking on happily at the massive amount of people all squeezed into the living room of the Gallagher house. Debs was sitting on Neil’s lap, Iggy standing next to them, Franny in his arms. Svet and Kev were sitting on the couch, Gemma and Amy on their laps. V had claimed the chair next to the tree, looking very pregnant and every bit as beautiful as she always had.

“Where are my no-good brothers?” Ian asked.

“Uh, I’m right here?” Iggy said with a smile, and it made Ian roll his eyes.

“Carl is with Taylor’s family tonight; he’ll be here in the morning. And Lip is running late.”

“Mandy’s fault, I’m sure,” Mickey laughed. “I bet she changed her outfit more times than you did.”

Ian laughed, still a little in disbelief that Mandy was back, in town and with Lip. She’d showed up on the Gallagher doorstep back in October, hoping to find Ian, but finding only Lip, home from school and babysitting his neice. Like magnets, the two had collided into each other effortlessly, and they were happily living together off-campus in their new apartment.

“Franny, you look so pretty,” Mickey exclaimed, crouching down and holding his hand out for her. Iggy set her down and she ran to Mickey, letting him spin her, her Christmas dress billowing around her. She giggled, a high-pitched laugh that almost brought Mickey to tears. He never knew he could love someone that he wasn’t related to (or fucking) this much, but the way his heart skipped when he had Franny in his arms made him ache in the absolute best ways.

When he stopped spinning her, his eyes stopped on a purple blur on her upper arm. His brow furrowed. “Why’s she got a bruise?” He asked as he stood back up, all the joy dissipating in an instant.

Debs frowned. “Tell him, Franny,” She encouraged the child.

Franny scowled. “Hayley Dawson pushed me down at recess.”

The angry eyebrows made a quick appearance. “Did you hit her back?”

“Mickey!”

“Come on, Fi!”

“No,” Franny said, sad that she knew better. “I’m the bigger person.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, very unsatisfied until a tiny fist hit him playfully in the stomach.

“Don’t worry, Papa,” Yev said with an almost sadistic (and scarily Mickey-like) smile, “I took care of it. Hayley has an older brother in my grade,” The boy informed his father, and Ian rolled his eyes at the identical, extremely proud looks on both his son’s and his husband’s faces.

“Which reminds me,” Svetlana said angrily, standing and crossing her arms, “Your son was suspended for fighting on Friday. Two weeks.”

“That’s my boy,” Mickey bragged, holding his hand out for a high-five, which Yevgeny returned eagerly. Ian smacked his arm.

“Mickey!”

“What?”

“This is not something to encourage!”

“Oh, come on, Ian! I was already in juvie by the time I was his age! If a little fighting is all the trouble he’s getting into, I’d say we’re doin’ alright.”

Ian scowled and crossed his arms, glaring at Mickey, who was extremely unsettled by how similar Ian and Svetlana could be. He shrugged.

“ _You_ can lecture the kid; I’m not telling him what he did was wrong. You don’t let someone push around the people you care about and not do anything about it.”

Ian _was_ a little proud (he was still a South Side kid, after all), but he was always playing Bad Cop to Mickey’s Good Cop. He rolled his eyes. “Yev?”

“I know, Dad, you’re not supposed to hit people,” Yev said, almost like he was reciting a poem for the four millionth time. “Unless they deserve it,” He added, which made Mickey and Ian both snicker.

Ian composed himself and shot the kid a side-eyed glance, because he knew that Yev wasn’t buying it at all, was only pretending to feel bad so he wouldn’t get in trouble, but he didn’t want this to turn into detention for the kid. He clapped him on the shoulder. “All right, you’re off the hook,” He said with a roll of his eyes.

Mickey couldn’t stop the smirk, and Ian dug his elbow into his ribs.

********

“Hey!” Mickey hollered, the first to see the front door open. Every head in the room followed, and the house was overtaken with another round of greetings as Lip and Mandy made their way around, hugging and kissing. 

“I’m glad you’re back, Mands,” Ian whispered as he leaned in for his kiss, forgoing her cheek to give her a slow, sweet kiss on the mouth, which earned him dirty looks from both his brother and his husband.

“Is there something I should know?” Lip asked jokingly when they parted, walking over to give Ian his obligatory hug.

Ian scoffed. “You didn’t think she came back for _you_ , did you?” He joked, slipping an arm around Mandy’s shoulders and pulling her close.

Lip looked at Mickey. “Guess we’re going home together,” He quipped with a shrug. “I could do worse,” He said with a laugh, and Mickey returned it.

“Sure could. Now go get me a beer, sweetheart,” He instructed, smacking Lip’s ass as he walked away to go talk to Kev and Fi.

Ian and Mandy laughed at the way Lip’s eyes widened.

“Marital bliss is a beautiful thing isn’t it?” Ian laughed, and Lip flipped him off.

“Come on, guys!” V called, clapping to get everyone’s attention. “Time for presents.”

Everyone struggled to find a spot to sit, Debbie once again settling on Neil’s lap. V stayed in the chair by the tree so she could hand out the presents, and Ian and Mickey both perched on the windowsill, leaving Lip, Mandy, Fiona, Iggy, Svetlana, Liam and Kev to all huddle on the couch. Mandy sat against the farthest arm rest, her legs slung over Lip’s lap and feet resting in Kev’s. Liam was between Kev and Lip, sitting on the back of the couch, and Svetlana was between Kev and Iggy, who was sitting on the end closest to the door. Fiona was on the arm of the couch, and the kids were all bouncing excitedly on the floor, waiting impatiently for their gifts. 

“Wait!” Debs called, before V could start digging through the gifts at the bottom of the tree to find the kid’s presents. Everyone stopped and looked at Franny as Debby scooped her in her arms and walked over to the mantle, where two pillar candles sat. She grabbed a long match and struck it. “Do you know who these candles are for, Frances?”

“Gramma and Grampa,” She said confidently.

Ian rolled his eyes, and Mickey leaned in to whisper to him. “Why does she still do this?” He asked.

Ian shrugged. “I don’t know. Trying to paint them as something other than total fuck-ups?”

Mickey pursed his lips. “Maybe she doesn’t want Franny thinking she comes from a line of absolute trash. You can’t really blame her for that, can you? Would you want your kid knowing his grandparents didn’t give a shit about anybody but themselves? Or would you want them to grow up thinking they were good people? Wouldn’t you want your kids to know they were loved?”

Ian looked down at Yevgeny, blazing blue eyes and bright blonde hair, a smile that could stop traffic. He had Ian’s heart, Mickey’s loyalty, Svetlana’s passion, Kev’s kindness, V’s confidence, Lip’s intelligence, Fiona’s determination, even Iggy’s good humor. He was a culmination of the best qualities of everyone around him. Ian loved that boy more than he ever thought he could love someone, even more than he loved Mickey. He nodded.

“He _is_ loved.”

Mickey smiled and leaned in for a soft kiss as Franny lit the pink and blue candles on the mantle, one for Monica, dead almost six years, and one for Frank, dead the last two. The temperature in the room seemed to raise a few degrees, still comfortable, and there were soft smiles all around when the candles were finally lit, even on Lip’s and Fiona’s faces.

Debbie sat back down and V resumed her hunt for the kid’s presents.

As Ian watched the children dig into their gifts, he noticed that Iggy’s arm was sitting behind Fi on the arm rest, his hand curled around to settle on her thigh. Ian smiled immaturely, and nudged Mickey, instructing him toward their siblings with a nod. Mickey cocked an eyebrow and shared Ian’s juvenile smile.

After the kids opened a few of their presents (the adults saved the rest for the morning), the crowd dispersed again, the children playing with their new toys under the watchful eyes of Debs, Neil, Svet, V, Kev and Mandy, half watching the kids and half watching The Santa Clause in the living room. Lip, Ian, Mickey, Fiona and Iggy were in the kitchen, popping the last batch of cookies in the oven.

Lip, Mickey and Iggy were playing poker at the table, a sizeable pile of bills, coins, cigarettes and joints (hidden in cigarette packs so the kids couldn’t tell the difference) between them.

“So how is everything since the move?” Fiona asked, keeping her voice low so the conversation would stay between them.

“It’s going great,” Ian said, frosting a cookie. “Yevgeny’s super excited to have his own room, and he’s already starting to decide how he wants to decorate it. Everything’s mostly still in boxes from the apartment, but we’re debating paint and stuff. Of course, I want to upgrade the kitchen first, but Mick wants a monster A/V setup.” Ian stood up from where he was bent over his cookie with a piping bag, slipping a lovesick look to Mickey. “It’s so crazy, Fi, I never would’ve imagined that this was what my life would come to. When I was fifteen, banging my boss and using Mandy as a beard, I never would’ve thought that I’d one day be married, _married_ to Mickey Milkovich! I feel like my dreams have come true. Not only did I end up with what was essentially my high school sweetheart, but we have a home, and a family and everything is just about as perfect as I could want. It’s so weird to see him be so… domesticated,” He struggled for the word, “Doing things like picking furniture and shit, but at the same time, it doesn’t feel like he’s changed at all. Fifteen year old Ian would have laughed in my face if I’d have told him that I’d one day be sleeping in the same bed as Mickey, let alone have his ring on my finger.”

Fiona smiled as she listened to her brother ramble.

“I haven’t had an episode in years. Even when we argue or fight or when something really bad happens, I don’t feel any kind of imbalance. I honestly don’t think my life could get any more perfect,” He finished.

Mickey caught the last sentence as he stood triumphantly, fifty bucks and four joints richer. He let Iggy keep his smokes, because he didn’t smoke Menthols, and anyway, he was trying to quit. The joints, however, were tucked securely in his pocket.

“Yoink!” He teased, reaching around Ian to snake the cookie he was frosting right out from under his piping bag, which resulted in red goo all over the counter.

“Mick!” Ian chastised, but Mickey just laughed, shoving Santa’s head in his mouth and grabbing a beer from the fridge. When he turned back around, Ian laughed.

“What?” He asked, opening his beer.

“You have frosting all over your mouth,” Ian laughed. “I’ll get it,” He smiled, wiping the red off Mickey’s full lips with his finger and sticking the digit in his mouth. Mickey watched with hungry eyes, smiling and pulling him in for a sexy, sugary kiss. Fiona watched with a small smile, happy that after all they’d been through, they finally had their shit together. Mickey finally pulled away, letting his hands linger on Ian’s hips for just a second longer than necessary before walking into the living room. When he was gone and the next game of poker had started up, Ian nudged Fiona.

“So.”

“So,” Fiona repeated, not knowing where Ian was going with this.

“Iggy’s over a lot, huh?” He asked, and Fiona ducked her head, letting her hair fall in her face to hide her blush.

“Yeah,” She answered, sounding only slightly flustered. “He’s really great with Franny. And Debs loves him, too.”

Ian cocked an eyebrow. “And?”

“And I don’t know,” Fiona said with a chuckle, “We just like having him around. He’s sweet and I gotta admit; It’s nice to have someone else here. You know I can’t stand the quiet of an empty house,” She said. Then she sighed. “You and Debs have your own families, and Carl and Ian only come back in the summer. Liam is getting to that age where he doesn’t want anything to do with me, so he’s almost always secluded up in his room. It just gets really lonely now that everyone is gone. I like someone else being here, even if we’re not talking. He’s really great. It’s crazy to see how different people can be when the toxic influences in their lives are gone,” She said almost introspectively, and Ian knew that she didn’t just mean the Milkoviches. Their families really were cut from the same cloth.

“Anything else?” Ian fished, and Fiona rolled her eyes.

“It’s nice having him around, and that’s all you’re getting from me.”

“Fair enough,” Ian smirked, grabbing another cookie to decorate.

In the living room, Mickey had sat down on the couch, watching the kids play and drinking his beer slowly, the taste of Ian’s lips and vanilla frosting still all over his tongue. He smiled when Yev yawned and sleepily crawled into his lap to curl up.

“Ugh, you’re so heavy!” Mickey teased, groaning.

“ _Papa_!” Yev scolded, settling in against his chest.

“You know, you’re gettin’ too big to snuggle,” He said with a laugh, running his fingers through the long blonde hair that the boy refused to let Svetlana cut. Mickey wasn’t sure how the Russian and the Ukrainian managed to make a kid that looked like he belonged in Southern California, but Mickey was absolutely in love with it. Yev didn’t look like his mother or his father, but more beautiful than both. Mickey joked that at almost nine, he was too big to cuddle, too old to crawl into bed with his fathers (or mothers, depending on where he was for the night) when he had a bad dream, too mature to need to be nurtured anymore. But everyone knew it was all a lie. Mickey had always promised, even swore to Ian in vulnerable moments together, that he would never deny Yevgeny affection or love. He would never refuse him, never tell him honestly that he was too old for hugs or kisses, too big to curl up in his father’s arms. He’d never make Yevgeny feel stupid or ashamed or weak for needing reassurance or care or compassion. And he would die before he said or did anything to make the boy feel like anything he was, or felt or liked was bad or abnormal. Yevgeny was gonna have love and support from all three of his fathers, both his mothers, and the rest of his fucked up, scrambled ass family, no matter what he did in life. Mickey had promised him, and later Amy, Gemma and Franny, and he had never broken that promise.

“I love you, Papa,” Yev said sleepily, leaning up to kiss his father’s cheek before quickly falling asleep in his arms. Mickey squeezed him gently.

“I love you, too, kid.”

The boys sat for a moment, watching as The Santa Clause ended and The Grinch began, until Mickey felt the arm of the couch dip beside him. Svetlana took the beer from his hand, drinking it down and handing it back. “Have you talked to Ian?”

Mickey sighed carefully, not wanting to move too much, knowing that Yev was a light sleeper. “No, not yet.”

“Tonight?” She asked, and Mickey nodded.

“Yeah, I think so.” He looked up at his ex-wife for assurance. “Am I crazy? Is he gonna laugh?”

Svetlana rolled her eyes. “No laugh. He will cry. He will say yes.”

“I really hope he does,” Mickey said with another sigh. He looked up after a moment to see Svetlana looking down at him, an affectionate smile on her face.

“What?”

“You look happy.”

His chest got tight. “I am. If Ian says yes, you’re okay with it?”

“Of course. Give me Yevgeny, go ask,” She instructed, holding her hands out for Yevgeny.

Mickey carefully handed the boy over, letting Svetlana slip into his seat. He kissed her cheek and walked away. Thankfully, Ian was still frosting cookies with Fiona, and his head darted up when Mickey walked past.

Mickey took a joint from his pocket and cocked an eyebrow, and Ian all but threw his piping bag down and followed him outside. The cold Chicago wind whipped around them, but Mickey ignored it, lighting the joint and taking a rather large hit for courage before passing it to Ian.

“These were Iggy’s, weren’t they?” Ian laughed as he watched his smoke dissipate into the sharp air.

Mickey nodded and took the joint back. “He’s always got the best smoke around. C’mere,” He instructed, turning Ian toward him. Ian’s eyes lidded immediately; he knew what Mikey was doing, and it was a failsafe way to get him all kinds of hot and bothered.

Mickey smirked and turned the joint around, holding it between his teeth and pulling Ian close. He let the smoke fill his mouth before blowing it back through the joint and into Ian’s mouth. Ian chased the smoke, leaning even closer and setting his lips against Mickey’s for just a second before backing off so he could take the joint out of his mouth before it burned him. But as soon as the red-hot cherry was clear of Mickey’s lips, Ian crashed his own against them, kissing him hotly, the way he wanted to earlier when they were in the kitchen. Mickey’s hands found Ian’s hips, and Ian’s arms circled the smaller boy’s neck. When they parted, Mickey was the one to blow out the hit, Ian having given him the smoke back during the kiss.

“Fuck, I love it when you do that,” Ian nearly panted, breathless and already hard.

“Why do you think I do it?” Mickey teased, cocking an eyebrow.

“Why did we agree to spend the night? I just want to get you into bed,” Ian purred, and Mickey’s dick twitched in response.

“It’s one night; rein yourself in, perv. And besides, we can fuck. We just have to be quiet because I seem to remember the walls here being very thin.”

Ian laughed, and his eyes sparkled, large and bright against the dark sky. Mickey took one more hit before stubbing out the joint and tossing it into the yard. He figured this was as alone as they were gonna get, so he ignored the twisting in his stomach, and drew in a deep breath.

“I got a question for you,” He blurted out, and Ian turned all his attention to his husband. He could tell from the look on Mickey’s face that this was important, so he smiled gently at him.

“Yeah?”

“Do you miss it?”

“Miss what, Mick?”

“You remember when Yev was a baby, how he’d laugh and giggle at the smallest things? How everything was so new and wonderful to him? And how happy he was?”

Ian smiled fondly and slipped his arm around Mickey’s shoulders. “He was the smiliest baby I’ve ever seen.”

Mickey smiled now, too. “Remember when he started to crawl? How you sat down across the room and made him crawl to you, and how happy we were when he made it? Do you remember how annoying it was to wake up in the middle of the night to change or feed him, but how fuckin’ cute he looked when he was sleeping? Remember how much of a pain it was when he’d sleep with us, but how, almost light-headed you’d feel when you woke up and we were both next to you? And how almost unreal it felt to lie on the couch with your head in my lap and Yev on your chest, like if you died that moment, you’d die happy?”

Ian looked like he was about to burst into tears. “Yeah.”

“Remember his first word?”

“Yeah,” Ian breathed, “ _Papa_. Like I told you it would be, but you were so insistent that it was gonna be _Mama_ and then when it wasn’t, you looked like you’d just won the fucking lottery,” Ian recalled. “And you tried so hard to hide it, but I saw you biting your lip and I knew you were trying not to cry.”

Mickey rolled his eyes.

“Remember the first time he said _Ian_?”

Ian gasped at the memory.

“And you couldn’t hold back the tears if you tried, and you kissed me and you just hugged Yev and I held you as you cried.”

“I remember,” Ian confirmed, eyes red around the edges.

“Do you miss it?” Mickey repeated his question.

Ian sighed. “Yeah, I guess I do. Don’t get me wrong; I love Yevgeny with my whole soul, but yeah, I guess I do miss having a baby. I got to help with Franny a little, but I do think I miss helping raise a kid.”

He drew in a deep breath. “Would you want to?” Mickey asked, his heart beating a million times a minute.

“What?”

Mickey squared himself and looked up into Ian’s eyes. “Would you ever want to have another kid? And not like, ‘co-parent’,” Mickey clarified. “I mean like, you and me both named as fathers on the birth certificate. I guess… I’m asking how you feel about us having our own baby.”

Ian was sure his heart stopped. He knew, at least, that he’d stopped breathing. Did Mickey honestly just ask him that?

“You wanna have another kid?” He asked, just to clarify.

Mickey shrugged, looking embarrassed. “Yeah, I do. But I want it to be _ours_. I know we don’t treat Yev differently even though he’s technically not anything to you, but I want to do it right, for real this time. I want this one to just be us. What do you say?” He asked, almost reluctantly.

Ian sniffled and tears welled in his eyes. “Of course, Mick,” He gushed, tears spilling down his cheeks.

“Seriously?”

Ian nodded. Mickey breathed and sigh of relief and hugged him almost painfully, arms digging into his skin in the best way. “You really wanna do this?”

“Yes, yes, yes! I would love another kid.”

Mickey pulled back and wiped the freezing cold tears off his face, then wiped Ian’s away, too. 

“If you’d rather someone else, that’s fine, but I tossed the idea to Svetlana, and she said she’d carry it for us, that way, you know, if anything ever happens, at least they’ll have the same mom. I know parentage bullshit gets so fucked up with same-sex-”

“What?”

Mickey stopped, frozen by the look on Ian’s face. “What do you mean, what?”

“What do you mean by ‘at least they’ll have the same mom’?”

Embarrassment crept back up on Mickey. He shrugged again. “Again, if you don’t want to, we can just…” He trailed off. “If you’re comfortable with it, I think you should, you know. Be the father. The things I feel for Yevgeny are unmatched by anyone else, no offense, and I just, I don’t know. I guess I want you to feel that. I want you to be a dad.”

“That’s so sweet, Mick,” Ian gushed, grabbing Mickey’s hands and holding them against his chest. “But, aren’t you worried about the baby, you know…being sick? Like me?” Ian asked, turning his eyes down to the ground.

Mickey felt his heart break. As happy as Ian had been a second ago, he’d gotten just as upset in an instant. Mickey switched their hands, taking Ian’s in his own and cradling them gently. “Of course not, Ian. You’ve wanted your own kids your whole life, right?”

Ian nodded, still looking down. “Yeah.”

“So don’t let this disease keep you from it. I don’t want you to let bipolar ruin anything else for you. If the kid doesn’t have it, that’s awesome. But if he does, then we’ll just deal with it together. As a family. I know you want to be a father, and I won’t let your sickness keep you from knowing that feeling.”

Ian’s heart ached in the best way. He finally turned his eyes up to meet Mickey’s, red and raw and tears welling gently.

“Thank you, Mick,” He said breathlessly. “I’m totally fine with Svet carrying the baby, and I’d love to be the father.”

Mickey smiled and pulled Ian in for a kiss, one loaded with emotion and happiness and love.

“I love you so much, Ian Milkovich,” He whispered when they parted, smiling slyly. Ian wasn’t used to the fact that he wasn’t technically a Gallagher anymore, and Mickey loved reminding him, because it was finality, permanence, something he never thought he’d get to experience. He couldn’t have chosen a better partner.

“I love you too, Mickey Milkovich. And I’m honored that you want me to be the father of your child.”

That sentence knocked the wind out of Mickey in the best way, and he gasped as he pulled Ian in for one more kiss. Their lips were dry and their hands were cold and there were frozen trails of tears down their faces, but in that moment, everything was absolutely perfect. Ian was happier than he’d ever been before, even happier than he was when he agreed to marry Mickey, even happier than he was when he watched him walk out of that prison a free man, even happier than he was when he finally got to slip Mickey’s ring onto his finger.

“It’s cold,” Ian said when they finally parted. “Let’s go back in.”

Mickey slipped his hand into Ian’s, and followed him inside, where everybody he loved was gathered. He scanned his eyes over the large group of people, all piled together in the living room, still watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Mickey felt his heart swell and his eyes started watering again, but he wasn’t gonna wipe them away this time. He finally had the family he wanted, the family he deserved.

He really was the luckiest son of a bitch in Chicago.


End file.
